The Cure All
by SweetTherapy
Summary: ONESHOT Post 703: Love Is a Battlefield. Alex finds solace in the arms of another...


**The Cure-All**

**Summary: **[ONESHOT] Post 703: Love Is a Battlefield. Alex finds solace in the arms of another...

I own nothing of Degrassi.

* * *

_Paige._

Damn.

_Paige._

Damn it.

_Paige Michalchuk._

Crap.

_Paaaaiiigeee Mi-chal-chuk._

Shit-crap-damn it!

_Blonde hair. Blueish-green eyes. Bubbly personality...Beautiful..._

Okey-dokey! I need a drink! "Hey, Liz! I'm going to go get some punch."

I watched as she slowly leaned over. "What?"

And I responded in kind by moving closer. "I said, I'm gonna go get a drink!" I arched my thumb over my shoulder. "Over _there_!"

This time, she was clearly getting flustered as she used a few fingers to comb back some loose locks. "WHAT?!_" _she yelled squinting her eyes as if improving her vision would help her ears. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't blame her. The music was blasting loudly in this place, and I was sure that if I stepped outside, the ringing in my ears would only intensify.

"I said, I'm going to GO. FOR. A DRINK!"

But she just stared dumbly at me with glossy-filled eyes taking yet another sip of her (I'd say around) fourteenth drink. So she just shrugged her shoulders.

My eyes rolled around on cue. "I'm gonna buy a duck and teach it to speak Chinese, so when I go over there, _I_ _can get a drink!_ You got that?"

"Sure, cuzzy," I faintly heard her say with a pat to my back. "Don't get lost, Lex. You're still the designated driver!" And she laughed and giggled like the giddy schoolgirl she was regardless of where she was going to university. I almost wanted to slap myself right there for actually agreeing to come with her to this...I don't know, half-kegger, half-frat party...thing. My cousin could be such a blonde sometimes.

Blonde. Like a Michalchuk.

"Will ya shut it, brain?" I yelled to myself certainly grateful that no one could hear me under the current circumstances of Kanye West singing throughout the whole of the house. I sighed and made my way over to the table with the fruity-looking beverage bowl.

Now, I use the term "made" loosely, because in the sea of people that was the living room, grinding, make-outs, and...WHAT THE HELL?!_ Blowjobs?_ ...Yep, I was definitely getting that drink now. New word: forced. I _forced_ my way to the table trying oh-so-desperately to erase the recent image now engrained into my head, but I was failing miserably.

All right, let's see...Samuel Adams, Samuel Adams, Bud Light, Samuel Adams, Pabst, Budweiser, Budweiser, Bud Light...Damn. Was there anything that _tasted_ better? ...Jack Daniel's, huh? I hesitated for a second. _I_ was the designated driver; I had a responsibility to bring me and Elizabeth back to Aunt Norma in _one_ piece. Was _one_ drink really going to kill my brain cells? As a bad habit, I started chewing on the inside of my bottom lip. Maybe I shouldn't...

"_Good, hon. I seriously hate it when you drink. You utterly taste like booze afterwards."_

Right. Two would be _way_ better. And so I snatched the half-empty bottle of whiskey, grabbed a cup full of what looked to be red punch with a free hand, and went back in search of my "youthful" cousin taking a swig every so often.

"Liz? Liz!" I yelled for her looking around, but she was nowhere in sight. Bathroom break? Maybe. _Bedroom_ break? Even more likely. Great.

"_Well, here's to my life: completely in the crapper! Cheers to myself!"_ Down went the "fruity beverage" in one sitting. I had instantly regretted it afterwards. This wasn't punch! This was straight alcohol with red food coloring in it! It tasted like 90/10 alcohol to fruit juice, and it tasted disgusting. Maybe my taste buds just needed a little bit more reacquainting...

_With Paige..._

Stop it. Stop it! Bad brain. Bad! I swear my mind had a...mind of its own! Yeah, because _that_ made sense Alex...

Ugh. Paige, we used to be so close...What happened? What made us go our separate ways? What put that gap between Ajax and Toronto? Between me and you?

Oh yeah. I messed up. No. I _fucked_ up. Badly.

It's been two months, and I still can't get over it. Two months, and I'm still thinking about it _now!_ Here of all places! I should be out there, drinking it up and having the time of my life. Or at least force myself to. It hurts visiting the past. Man. I wish if I could just erase it, like a slate or a chalkboard. An eraser. Yeah. That's what I need.

As I looked down at the bottle in my hand, I realized I had something like it if not better, and I hungrily consumed the bourbon. It burned, like hell, but I didn't care. I needed that burn; I needed it to singe away the emotions I felt...to become numb. And I had finally let go. "Happy would be 'monthiversary,' babe," I quietly said to myself. Ah, alcohol: the eraser of my life. So, this is the reason my mom got up every day, huh? I hate to admit it, but it feels pretty damn good right now. It makes me feel all warm inside. Paige could make me feel this way, to be carefree and to not worry about the daily burdens of life. No alcohol was necessary.

But guess what, brain! She's not here right now. She's in Toronto doing who-knows-what over there, and _I'm_ over here in Ajax not giving a damn. Yeah, that's right. I don't care! And you know what, Paige? You're a _bitch!_ Ha! Take that you memory blonde!

Outwardly, I felt a smile form on my face baring my teeth and plumping up my cheeks, but deep down, it was a completely different story. And just like that, the bottle had automatically glided to my mouth, and down had come the remedial poison to touch the tongue and throat that I knew only craved for more.

"Ah, shit!" I coughed as I sputtered out a few dribbles of whiskey. Apparently, my craving was allowed only so far.

"You okay?" I heard a deep voice ask, patting me in the back.

"I'm—" I coughed once more. "...fine...I think."

The man's voice laughed. "That's good. Wouldn't want someone as cute as you to keel over and die."

I opened my mouth but stopped shortly after. Was this guy..._hitting_ on me? A _guy_...said that to _me?_ I turned to look at him. Strong jaw, big nose, shaved chin, brown eyes, massive biceps, a university jersey, and a backwards cap...Oh, I see: a _jock_; probably one of the frat guys. Cute? Not really, but then again, I tended to have that "filter" up and running that Paige had so kindly pointed out only a few months before.

What kept me from telling him, (the alcohol possibly) I had no clue, but I decided to keep up the charade. So I licked my lips and smiled cutely at him, and he smiled back. Gosh, I'm such a tease.

"So, what's someone as beautiful as you standing here all by yourself?" I watched as he shook his head. "You should be dancing out there, no?"

Wow. Bold much? But I already knew why. The alcohol radiating off of him could be picked up by my nose from a mile away, so strong as it was. I wasn't surprised. "No, just...being the responsible designated driver. I'm trying to keep my alcohol levels to a minimum." It felt weird flirting with a guy again. Kind of reminds me of the old days, the old _old_ days, back before Jay and I were even dating.

He looked down at my right hand, more specifically, what was in my right hand, and he smirked. "Oh, I don't know about asking help from Jack for that one," he said with a raised brow.

I laughed uncontrollably. Embarrassing, yes, but I was pretty sure it had something to do with being buzzed. "Yeah, yeah, he's a..." I lifted the bottle to my face. It looked a little blurry. "He's definitely _not_ a good influence."

"Well, listen. If Mr. Daniel's here isn't treating you right, maybe you should just ditch him!" He winked at me, and I laughed some more. Stupid me for drinking. Then, Mr. John Doe placed his hand in front of me. "Let's go dance, huh? C'mon. Whadd'ya say?"

And now _I_ had lifted an eyebrow, but this was merely out of the confusion I was showing on my face. "I don't even know your name."

He leaned even closer to my ear taking my hand to pull me towards him. "It's Johnny, baby."

He looked at me, and I smiled. Yep, this train had been ridden on for far too long. Time to spill the beans. "Well...Johnny," I said as I slowly braced him against the wall with a hand to his chest. He smiled suggestively to me as if I were playing his game. "I'd love to, but there's just...one slight problem." My finger was tracing his jaw, and I leaned over. I stared at his lips slowly and teasingly bringing my own to his with only a few millimeters in between, but decided to make a left turn to his ear to say those three magical words that would happily ruin any straight man's mood: "I'm a lesbian."

Did a bombshell just go off in his head? I hope so. I leaned back and put on the goofiest of smiles placing a few good pats on his chest as if to say, "Sorry, sir. Better luck next time!" This time my laughter had found no boundaries. I was chuckling my head off as I picked up my bottle of whiskey and skipped off merrily into the sunset.

Loser! What a loser! He had no clue. Crap. He _seriously_ had no clue! I swear, that definitely cheered me up as I now can't help but wear a huge grin on my face and even...Wait a minute. Am I _skipping?_ That was when I realized I was prancing around like an idiot the exact same way Paige would when she was especially super excited about a sale at her favorite boutique...

All shit in friggin' hell! Now she's in my thoughts when I'm drunk? _Fuck!_ Get. Out. Of. My. Head! Every time her pretty face shows up in my mind, my heart starts feeling like someone just callously placed a cement block on top of it. It feels heavy, and I'm sick and tired of dragging its sorry ass all over the place when all it's telling my head over and over again is that _this is the right thing to do._

You know what this means? It means I'm not drunk enough yet. I need to get hammered...like right now!

"Hey...party people! Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but this chica needs a partner!"

I turned my head. _Beer Pong?_ Not exactly my cup of tea, but I'll take it! So I walked on over and willingly volunteered myself to become a beer pong athlete, if only for finding a purpose to drink a few bottles worth of booze, and introduced myself.

~*~

A few hours later, and I found myself lazily walking out the front door into the chill of the night onto to the sidewalk. Oh, yes, I could most definitely tell it was cold because not even the amount of liquor I had drunk could prevent the sting of the air now penetrating my coat. I sighed and clumsily reached into my pocket, pulling out a mini-bottle of bourbon.

"Well then, it's a good thing I have you to keep me warm at night," I said as I hugged it to my face with a smile.

I looked at it fondly. "You know, you're perfect for me." I continued to drink no longer able to feel the burn. "You would—" I tripped over my own two feet but had quickly caught myself. Pretty soon, the giggling ensued. I just couldn't help myself. _"Gee, I hope I'm walking in a straight line. I don't want to look like an idiot,"_ I thought to myself. "You would never, and I mean..._never_ let me down." I heard a belch pop out of nowhere. Where had that come from? I looked all around, but after several seconds of meaningless scanning, I finally figured out that the culprit was none other than me, and there was even more laughing on my part. "And you wanna know the—the best part?" I asked as I bit my bottom lip not really expecting an actual answer. "I...could never hurt you. I would _never_ be able to let you down. We're perfect for each other!"

"_And, you know what Marco said to me?"_

"_What? 'Paige Michalchuk, you're too much of a drama queen?'"_

"_Ha. Ha. Ms. I'm-too-sarcastic-for-my-own-damn-good...No, you dummy. He said to me that he always thought that you and I made the perfect couple..."_

"Paige-y, Paige-y, Paige-y...of course. Haven't you heard that opposites _always_ attract?" Hearing myself say that last part out loud had suddenly jolted me back to the real world.

Hmm...Maybe this drink wasn't so perfect for me after all...

What time was it anyways? It looked pretty dark out right then, but my eyes just couldn't find the moon. I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open. [3:30 AM] Not the best of timing but it was certainly better than way back when I was used to coming home from the ravine practically two hours before school would start that same morning.

Back before Paige happened.

Paige. Paige...Paige Michalchuk...You see what you do to me even when you're not around? You're spoiled, Paige, you know that? You even make my thoughts revolve around you. How? I want them back, Paige. I want them back...please?

If I say sorry, if I apologize with all of my heart, will you leave my mind forever? Will you take with you the hurt and the sorrow and the confusion that has been left in your wake? Can you make it all vanish with a snap of your fingers?

Then please...forgive me, Paige. I was wrong. Call me the fool. I was the bitch. You were nothing but patient with me. I'm sorry if I ruined your career...your whole life. I'm sorry for dumping you for my own selfish reasons. I'm sorry if I played with your heart like it was a meaningless toy, a mere plaything. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you...because you deserve so much better.

I wasn't sure when the tears decided to fall, but they had come out as gently as a drizzling rain: not so vigorously yet it came so suddenly that it was enough to make me realize that I was crying.

No! No crying, Alex. You need to be strong. You don't want to look stupid for crying over something so _trivial_ that she's probably already gotten over it. You can't handle this right now.

More bourbon found its way into my mouth as even more tears continued to delicately streak down my cheeks with smudges of mascara only adding to the effect.

"Hello?"

I turned around. Was somebody following me?

"Hello."

No, it sounded a bit more muffled than if someone were to speak to me in front of my face.

"Hello!"

I jumped and stared down at the source of my concern coming from my right hand. My cell, which was still sitting comfortably open in my palm was now displaying several numbers in large black and bold print. The familiarity of its arrangement had only served to strengthen the shock.

"Alex, hello?"

Now perched up firmly against my ear, my phone was virtually being crushed with the strong iron grip I had held against it. But I couldn't speak nor was I able to make verbal confirmation that I was still on the line. Not that I'd probably want to. I was too embarrassed at what my hand had just done a few seconds ago. Embarrassed yet at the same time entranced by the soothing voice that captured my attention in _her_ cage.

"Alex! Are you all right? Come on! I know that's you on the other side of this call!"

My mouth opened. No words were uttered.

"Look, whatever...Geez. Three in the morning? I'm headed back to dream world, 'kay?"

Wait, Paige! I had to stop her.

"Paige," I heard myself say in the lowest of tones.

Nevertheless, she was able to hear it. She didn't say anything, but I could hear her steadily breathing into the receiver. What did I want to say? What could I say? What was my hand expecting when I had subconsciously dialed her number?

My lips parted. The next thing I knew, I was saying what I had always yearned to tell her those two months post our last meeting in Toronto. "...I'm sorry..." Anything to make it go away.

To the same extent of those words being akin to poison, I felt the bile immediately rising from out of my stomach into my mouth and the urge to expel it even greater. _End Call_ was pushed with a flip of the lid, and I suddenly found myself kneeling into a dumpster in a dark alleyway not really caring whether it got into my hair or not.

"_Talk about spilling my guts."_ No matter what the situation, my mind would always find a way to joke about it. Sometimes it was just too inappropriate...like now, for example since I wasn't smiling at the time it had popped into my head. Too much alcohol, complete anxiety — I didn't care. I just felt tired, my eyelids feeling especially heavy. All I wanted to do was sleep. With my back against the wall, I found myself sliding down the hard brick until my butt found the support it was looking for.

Was I forgetting something? It felt like it...Yes, I am, but what though? And a bittersweet smirk formed on my mouth, my eyes closed tightly willingly welcoming the world of the unconscious.

"_Oh well...Goodnight, Paige...Goodnight, Liz. Liz. Liz...Liz."_ I succumbed to sleep's hold.


End file.
